The Real-Life Reset

There’s a running joke that I “should be” better at social media — new city, new project, community to grow. But here’s the truth: the less time I spend online, the more my life feels like mine. My sleep is better. My friendships feel warmer. I finish things. I go outside. I’m happier.

I don’t say that as a flex. I say it as someone who used to be glued to the feed — posting, checking, waiting for a hit of being seen. Now, most nights, I close the laptop and let the world carry on without me. It turns out it’s very good at that.

And I’m not the only one craving more real life. A new Atlantic piece asked kids how they’d actually like to spend time with friends. The winner wasn’t online hangouts or adult-run activities. It was unsupervised, in-person, messy play. The catch? Many aren’t allowed to do it. So, they go where adults can’t stop them: their phones.

Swap “kids” for “us,” and the pattern holds. We want connection. We’ve settled for convenience.

Loneliness Changes More Than Your Calendar

We talk about loneliness like a mood. It’s bigger than that. A roundup of recent studies shows loneliness can reshape how we think and feel: more emotional volatility, distorted self-perception (feeling like a burden), even brain patterns that process fictional characters and real friends more similarly. Social media use can actually increase loneliness over time — and loneliness can drive more social media use. That’s a loop.

The point isn’t to demonise phones. It’s to name what they can’t do. A like is not a look. A DM is not a doorstep. An algorithm can suggest a friend; it can’t make one.

Performing Is Exhausting; Being Is Easier to Keep

I read a beautiful essay by Vivian Gornick about low self-esteem — the way it can quietly run your life, make you say no when you mean yes, stay home when you want to go. It resonated more than I wanted it to. For years, my “extroversion” was a role I played with a drink in my hand. It worked… until it didn’t. Now, my quieter self is easier to carry. I don’t need a character to be liked. I just need to show up.

Maybe you feel this too: less performance, more presence. Less “posting,” more being where your feet are.

Five Micro-Freedoms to Trade Screen Time for Real Time

1) A weekly device sabbath. Half a day, phone on silent, out of sight. Put something analog in the space—walk, swim, cook with a friend, lie in the sun.

2) Default to outdoors. Coffee? Takeaway and park bench. Catch-up? Beach walk. Nervous first meet? Loop around the block. Nature makes conversation easier.

3) Join one ongoing thing. Sport club, choir, volunteer shift, book club. Consistency beats intensity for making friends as adults.

4) Make friction your friend. Don’t over-optimise. Choose the train that takes 15 minutes longer and text a mate to call you on it. Boredom is not an emergency.

5) Host tiny. Two people for soup. A puzzle night. A stationery club. (Yes, really.) Low prep, high repeatability.

And if the first attempts feel awkward? Good. That’s the sensation of building new social muscle. Kids want unsupervised play because it teaches competence and courage. Adults need that back, too.

If You’re Stuck in the Loop

If your nights look like: scroll → feel left out → scroll more → sleep worse → repeat… you’re not failing. You’re responding to a machine designed to keep you there. The exit is rarely dramatic. It’s a series of small swaps you repeat until your life feels fuller than your feed.

Start here this week:

• One plan on the calendar that involves your legs, not your thumbs.

• One hour at home with your phone in another room.

• One message to someone you like that isn’t a meme — “Walk Friday?”

You deserve a life that’s rich enough to forget your phone exists for a while.

If you need a shove, use us. The Get Out calendar is full of things that don’t require a costume or a persona. Just you, as you are, showing up. The algorithm can wait. The ocean, the park, the people—you included—will not.